


Sniper's Silence

by TheKansasWinchester



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BBC Sherlock AU, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pacific Rim AU, Sherlock/Irene and John/Molly are for compatibility only, mormor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKansasWinchester/pseuds/TheKansasWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the face of the first year of Kaiju attacks, Sebastian Moran is released from prison and recruited into Jaeger Program training. With a troubled past, he pilots the Mark-1 Jaeger 'Tiger Jaw' alone until the two pilot system is installed. As 2017 rolls around, Jim Moriarty finishes his Jaeger training but discovers that his Drift Compatibility is extremely limited due to his childhood trauma. With this revelation, he drops out and joins the building team on the Anti-Kaiju wall. Sebastian is a similar case, moving from place to place with the Wall of Life project - but he never meets Jim. Until 2025, when they meet at the Hong Kong stronghold. Their pasts, both consisting of violence and other negative tendencies, make them the closest Drift Partners in the base after their initial Neural Handshake. As the Kaiju grow in strength and numbers, Sebastian's old experiences from his time piloting 'Tiger Jaw' begin to affect his body and mind in ways that threaten the safety of himself, Jim and everyone in the base.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sniper's Silence

**Author's Note:**

> I've only recently seen Pacific Rim and I instantly got caught on the idea of MorMor being Drift Compatible. Although I've now watched the film a few times, my knowledge is still quite limited so re-writes of some of the early chapters may occur later on. I hope to make this fic around 10 chapters long, with an average chapter length of 2,000 words. The timeline of this fic coincides with the film but dates of Jaeger release may vary (if they do, I apologise). This is for fun and I hope everyone enjoys it. As for updating, it will be every week or two weeks, depending.

Late 2014.

The distant slam of metal cell doors had Sebastian's eyes flickering open. The air was stale and his bunk creaked under the weight of his lean frame as he shifted to sit up; head falling forwards, low between his shoulders. Solitary confinement had been his cage for the last month and a half, after a shouting match had turned violent - leaving the other guy missing an eye. Pulling a hand through his hair, Sebastian scratched his temple, pressing two fingers there before applying pressure to stave off the headache threatening to bloom. He closed his bright eyes and sighed. The floor of the cell was so cold and damp against his bare feet.

"Moran," a sudden voice echoed from outside the cell and Sebastian glanced up. His stance didn't change though, even as the door swung open and three hefty guards crowded into the room. "On your feet, Moran." 

It was routine for the room to be searched every once in a while - in case he'd somehow managed to fashion a weapon, or torn up the meagre bedsheets to wrap around his neck - but two days in a row was rare. Sebastian's brow tightened as he sniffed and then cleared his throat, eyes dropping back to the dirt between his toes. 

"Best close the door. I could take all of you before the big fella even thought about reaching for his taser." The words were quietly spoken and in an odd calm that had two of the men looking to one another warily. A quick nod and the guard on the left unclipped a pair of cuffs from his belt. 

"On your feet."

Sebastian complied then, slowly, cockily, shifting his weight as he stared hard into the eyes of the man before him. Thrusting his wrists forward, the metal clasped and locked tight, catching the skin in two cool, hard circles. 

Rows of cells went by; arms casually hung between the bars and eyes pierced into him - in an overly envious way - but Sebastian's lip only curled up in silent satisfaction. A chorus of wolf-whistles and cheering dropped like a blanket around Sebastian and the three guards as they came to a halt at the door that led towards the outside world. In fact, as he was tugged down a long corridor, lined with rooms on one side and barred windows on the other, Sebastian could practically smell the fresh air of freedom. 

But then they took a detour and he huffed. It wasn't like Sebastian had never visited the Warden's office before but it hadn't been since his first fight - merely three days into his five year sentence. The guard leading knocked on the door and waited to be called in. Once the confirmation was given, the four men entered and Sebastian was forced into the hard seat opposite the Warden's.

A large desk separated them.

"Moran."

"Do none of you know my first name?" Sebastian questioned as he raised a non-committal brow, sitting forward in the chair and shrugging off the hand that landed harshly on his shoulder in an attempted to pull him back. "I've been in this place for three and a half fucking years now. Not that I don't appreciate formality but this 'Moran' bullshit's really starting to get on my tits." 

The Warden's eyes locked with Sebastian's for a moment before the convict cracked a wide smirk and shook his head as he slumped back. He twisted his wrists to get a little more comfortable in the restraints and waited to be spoken to.

"You were the best sniper in your regiment," the Warden reminded, fingers touching at the closed file that sat in front of him. Sebastian could see his own mugshot clipped to the cover. For a short second silence fell over the room, leaving only the loud ticking of the clock above the door and then it was broken.

"Best shot in the whole fucking army." Sebastian answered back, narrowing his eyes at the line of questioning. "Is there a point to this?" He gestured away, loosely, "'Cause if not, I'd love to go back to my damp, windowless cell. It's really starting to grow on me." 

Taking none of Sebastian's attitude, the Warden opened the drawer to the right of him and pulled out another file. "God help us," he murmured as he shifted in his leather chair and indicated for the removal of the cuffs. As they were dutifully unlocked, Sebastian rubbed his wrists and blinked with slightly more curious eyes now. The Warden opened the second file and slid a couple of photographs across the desk.

"What're these?" Was the question that left Sebastian's lips as he sat forward again and reached for one of the black and white pictures. He looked at it briefly before his gaze flicked up.

"They were taken just over a year ago in San Francisco, California. Nobody knows what the hell that thing is or where it came from." Having seen a lot of things in the army, a lot of bad things; bodies, destruction, ruins, Sebastian managed to keep his hands from shaking as he stared at the image between his fingers. A creature, unlike any species he'd ever seen, lumbered through the streets of the city. Its eyes bulged like a chameleon and its head jutted forwards in a hard line. The end of its tail hovered above its head, ready to strike. "They're calling it a Kaiju - or giant beast - and, as reports show, it took six days to kill, after destroying as much as thirty-five miles of coastline." 

Sebastian cleared his throat. "What does this have to do with me?"

"If you're as good a shot as you say you are then you might be of some use in the proposed Jaeger training program." There was a skeptical hesitation in the Warden's tone and Sebastian picked up on it immediately. He tossed the photograph back onto the desk and rested his hands on his thighs. 

"You must be desperate. And, pardon my French but, what the fuck is a Jaeger?" 

More papers were pulled from the file, explaining that measures were being taken to re-recruit any and all soldiers whose tours of Duty were over. Sebastian couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was sure his days of battle were behind him. 

An hour passed and, as Sebastian listened, he couldn't deny the fact that training again, being disciplined again, felt like a step in a better direction than simply wasting away behind these God-forsaken walls. 

"Either you ship out to the Jaeger Program training base or you stay here. The choice is yours." It took Sebastian less than three seconds to sign the contract. He was the type to risk his life and die young than do nothing and preserve it. 

On the way back to his cell - the one he had to himself, for the safety of the other prisoners - Sebastian's mind buzzed at the prospect of his renewed future. Caring about the safety of others had never been a particularly high priority of his but now, it seemed as though it would be his job. Sebastian dressed, brazenly, after his release was signed, in front of a dozen or more guards who'd been at the brunt of his anger for the last few years. The attire consisted of tight black jeans, a black tank top vest, black boots, a worn leather jacket and a silver chain holding two scuffed metal dog tags. It all still fit relatively well, considering; even if the jacket was a little baggy now.

Weight loss was commonplace and easy for Sebastian because of the way he'd spent his childhood and young-adult life on rations that weren't enough. Every extra scrap was a luxury he never afforded himself because, if he did that and got used to it, he would only be disappointed in the end.

Perhaps that was what they saw in him; a soldier who worked alone better than he played with others. 

Typically, he'd have been eager to leave but the fact that a black car waited just outside the main gate - ready to whisk him to an unknown location - was reason enough to stall. In all honesty, Sebastian wondered what kind of army unit sent glorified school boys with earpieces to do their dirty work, to retrieve their goods. 

"Mr. Moran," one of the suited men greeted him, opened the back door of the car and ushered Sebastian inside. The interior was exactly as expected; comfortable and business-like. 

"What the fuck is wrong with calling me Sebastian?" He asked the question against the darkened window pane.

Traffic throughout London made the journey a hundred times more unbearable but it gave Sebastian time to perceive tiny changes to the city he knew as a child. Fundamentally, of course, it was the same. The buildings had grown taller as engineers grew bolder, and more people crowded outside important buildings, picketing, but essentially the London from Sebastian's memory had not changed as much as he imagined it would in the short time he'd been away. 

Voices and chanting outside the Houses of Parliament were Sebastian's lullaby as he folded his arms close around his chest and shut his eyes. Later, when a firm hand shook him awake, they had arrived at an airstrip. So the training program was international? That would explain why it'd taken a year to recruit him.

Yawning and stepping out of the car, Sebastian eyed the charter plane. "No fucking way am I getting on that..."

"Oh, come on, Sebby. Don't you trust me?" A female voice had Sebastian's attention turning to the vehicle that had pulled up beside his. Raven hair was pristinely styled, eyes hidden by Aviators, and Sebastian might've liked the body beneath the pilot's uniform but the attitude was already grating. 

"Call me Sebby again and--" 

"And what? You're a kitten who thinks he's a tiger. Put the claws away, they're not becoming." Her British drawl was strangely posh but offset by the way she wore heavy boots, like his. "Irene Adler," she offered as she extended a hand towards Sebastian. He stared at it but made no other move, deeming that if he took it, he might be tempted to break those pretty fingers. "Don't worry, I've dealt with worse then you before. Just boys with toys." 

With a disappointed pout, Irene let her hand drop and turned. Calling over her shoulder, she ordered Sebastian to follow and climbed into the private jet. 

Flying commercially had never been a problem for Sebastian but flying privately was a whole different ball game. In the army, they had deployed from Black Hawks once and his pulse had been raging beneath his skin from excitement then. Now though; it beat against his throat with nerves. 

Irene turned out to be a pretty decent pilot and Sebastian's first impression of her soothed into little more than a slightly offended simmer by the time they landed in Alaska. His opinion could have been clouded by the copious amount of alcohol he'd consumed during the flight but he actually smiled as he caught up to her on the tarmac. 

"Exactly how much have you had to drink, Sebastian?" Irene's hand moved out to steady the taller figure as he walked beside her.

"Frankly, right now, I'm more worried about how you know my name." A lazy smirk spread across Sebastian's face and Irene shrugged and told him she'd read his file. After a moment, taking in that information, he added; "I missed a lot of things inside, I'm just making up for lost time." 

Irene regarded him and he watched her closely. "Being in prison kept you safe--"

Sebastian huffed, pushing her away uncharacteristically gently. “Rather be dead than bored. I need another drink.”

“I know a lot of people who would trade death for boredom any day.” Reaching for Sebastian’s lapels, Irene pulled him down to her level. He scoffed and frowned. “People so much more valuable than you,” Irene shook her head as she shoved him away. “And don’t make me look like a joke in front of my superiors.”

Making Irene out to be a joke wasn’t something Sebastian was trying to do but removing the overpowering stench of liquor was impossible without adequate showering facilities. The base in Alaska had them, obviously, but Sebastian didn’t know his way around enough to find them before meeting with the Commander.

The guy talked about so much that Sebastian wouldn’t have understood, even if he was sober. Drifting and The Breach, Jaegers and Kaiju, location after location bounced against his eardrums, never penetrating into his brain. Sebastian needed sleep. And food.

“You’ll be trained to pilot a Mark-1 Jaeger named _Tiger Jaw_. It was completed a month ago and is awaiting a successful pilot test. After which, it will be deployed.” The Commander relayed, not looking up from his desk in proper address.

Sebastian disliked authority a lot of the time but this was taking the piss. “With all due respect,” he gritted out, hands tightening into fists by his sides. “How many pilots have failed?”

“You’ll be number thirteen. Unlucky for some.”

Needless to say, Sebastian left the Commander’s office with a determination to prove he could be trained well enough to pilot _Tiger Jaw_.


End file.
